Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

by Grover Swank, Denise

  The smell of ozone hit Georgie’s nose and an electrical buzzing noise filled the room. Light burst from the bulbs on the wall, far brighter than it should have been, and multiple bulbs shattered, sending flying glass into the air.

  Which was when several of the light sockets caught fire, along with the connection between the light plug and the extension cord.

  Georgie let out a cry of shock, then covered her head to protect herself from flying debris, while several of the other attendees shrieked and ran out of the house.

  A smoke alarm began to blare.

  The rest of the lights went dim—or rather dimmer—and the light in the kitchen went out. The only thing lighting the room was the burning light cord, the cardboard underneath, and a curtain next to the sofa.

  Jezebel let everyone know she didn’t approve of this nonsense by releasing several loud shrieks of protest from the kitchen.

  “It’s so pretty!” Josie exclaimed in awe. “Beau’s really putting on a show!”

  “Everybody out!” River shouted, grabbing his aunt by the shoulders and escorting her halfway across the living room. “Georgie, can you get Dottie and Josie out of here?”

  She didn’t answer, just snagged both women’s arms and started dragging them to the door, but she turned back to see River running into the kitchen. As she pushed the women out onto the front porch, he was hurrying back to the living room with a small fire extinguisher.

  Georgie followed the women outside to take a quick head count. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she called 911, letting the dispatcher know there was a house fire and to send a fire truck.

  The front windows opened while she was on the call, and gray, then black, smoke billowed out.

  When she hung up, she was already running through the front door, searching the living room for River, but most of the fire was out and the darkened room was filled with smoke. She heard the sputtering of the fire extinguisher, which sounded nearly empty.

  “River!”

  “Georgie! Go back outside!” he shouted, something like panic in his voice.

  She wasn’t about to leave him to fight this alone.

  She nudged a large crystal someone had dropped on the floor over to the door to prop it open, then ran to the back door, nudging a kitchen chair into the opening before she headed back to River. As she ran back into the smoke-filled room, she could hear River coughing, but the haze kept her from seeing him.

  “River!” she shouted. “Come on! The fire department’s on the way!” The faint sound of sirens punctuated her statement.

  “It’s almost out!” he shouted, stomping flames on the floor.

  The punch bowl caught the corner of Georgie’s eye, so she scooped it into her arms, surprised at how heavy it was, then rushed over to River. The sloshing punch soaked her shirt, but she managed to toss most of its contents toward the flames.

  River shifted to the side as she dumped the liquid, but the weight of the bowl threw off her aim and most of it ended up on him, drenching his chest and legs. What liquid did hit the flames made the fire flare even higher.

  Well, crap. She forgot there was alcohol in the punch.

  The sirens got louder. Help was on the way, but Georgie had just made River a human torch.

  “River! I’m sorry! Leave it!”

  But then she was hit with a spray of cold water from behind. She turned to see Dottie standing behind her holding a garden hose and wearing the fierce expression of a warrior headed into battle.

  The flames sputtered out, and River rushed over and wrapped his arms around both of them, sweeping them toward the front door despite Dottie’s protests that she still needed to talk to Beau.

  A fire truck pulled up as they went outside, and the firefighters rushed in to assess the damage. The first responders called an ambulance to check River for smoke inhalation. They arrived quickly, and they told him his oxygen levels were good, thank God. Their official advice was that he should go to the hospital to be fully examined, but he’d assured them he felt fine. Thankfully, he had gym clothes in the car, so he’d been able to at least switch out his T-shirt for a clean one.

  Georgie felt grimy and her clothes stank of smoke, but the house hadn’t been officially cleared yet, and she didn’t want to swap her shirt in front of everyone.

  While River talked to a firefighter, Dottie stood in the front yard, staring up at the house in dismay. Several people had gathered around the house, although they hung back at a slight distance. A small group of them surrounded Josie, who was talking with a lot of hand gestures. Sighing, Georgie went over to check on Dottie. “Are you okay? Are you sure we shouldn’t have the ambulance crew check you over too?”

  “I’m fine,” the older woman said, more subdued than Georgie had ever heard her. “But now I’ll never get to talk to Beau.”

  Shame washed through Georgie. While she had seen the séance as a joke and an inconvenience, she realized this whole thing had been orchestrated by a woman who had lost the love of her life. If she’d had a marriage license or wedding ring, she would have been seen as Beau’s widow, and as such, granted more respect and sympathy. But from what she’d gathered, Dottie and Beau had been together for decades. She might not have the legal status of widow, but Dottie’s pain ran just as deep as if they’d been married.

  “That’s not true,” Georgie said softly as she slipped her hand into the older woman’s. “You can talk to Beau any time you like.”

  “But he won’t talk back.” Her voice quavered with tears.

  Georgie turned to face her. “Oh, Dottie. From what I can see, Beau’s voice is everywhere. It’s in the brewery. In his house. It’s in River. And it’s in you. He’s here. You just have to search a little bit for him.”

  The older woman nodded, a tear escaping and running down her cheek.

  Georgie grabbed her other hand and turned the woman to face her. “You lost someone very dear to you. Perhaps you should take some time off to grieve.”

  Her face fell. “You’re firing me.”

  Georgie squeezed her hands. “No! I most definitely am not. I need you.” And to Georgie’s surprise she meant it, and not because the will had stated she couldn’t be fired. “Just like I need River. I can’t do this without either of you.”

  “But I just nearly burned down your house,” Dottie said, her gaze darting to the house.

  “Nearly. Which means you didn’t. The house isn’t important, Dottie. What matters is that everyone is safe. That you’re safe. I’m sure Grandpa Beau would have hated it if you’d gotten hurt trying to talk to him. You have River. And now you have me. We’ll get through this. I promise.”

  “Oh, Georgie.” Dottie threw her arms around Georgie and held tight. “I wasn’t so sure at first, but everything’s unfolding the way it was supposed to. Beau knew what he was doing when he picked you.”

  Georgie’s body stiffened. Had Dottie known that River was supposed to get the brewery? Before she could ask any questions, the older woman dropped her hold and walked away.

  Chapter 22

  For a moment there, holding Georgie’s hand in the séance circle, River had felt pretty good about what the future might hold for them—and he’d gotten the impression she felt pretty good about it too, complications aside. And then his aunt had set her house on fire.

  How did you even apologize to someone for that? He would insist on paying for the repairs (even if it wiped him out), but that didn’t seem like enough. And nothing could atone for that disaster of a crystal-selection ceremony.

  He’d failed Georgie, and Aunt Dottie too. He should have put a stop to the séance back at the idea stage, before everything had spiraled out of control. But he’d gone along with it, in the way he went along with most of his aunt’s crazy plans, because he’d thought it would make her happy. Because he didn’t know how to talk to people who were grieving, even when he was too. But he’d made a mess of everything.

  His aunt wasn’t happy.

  One glance at
her, talking to Georgie, was enough to tell him that. She looked like Beau had just died all over again. And then Georgie took his aunt into her arms, and something in him loosened.

  “I’m sorry about the pictures,” the firefighter said. “He’s erased them, of course, and we’ll make him do a hundred push-ups back at the station.”

  River had witnessed one of the guys taking phone pictures of the pink crystal dick, sadly disconnected from its statue. In her haste to get him out of the house, Georgie had unwittingly used it to prop open the front door.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I get it. Do you have any recommendations for local companies to clean up this mess?” Although, it occurred to him that they could use the same people who’d taken care of the brewery.

  God, it would be a miracle if Georgie didn’t sell the company just to get away from them all.

  The firefighter gave him a couple of cards and told him they’d be wrapping up soon. River glanced back at Georgie and saw his aunt walking away from her. He needed to talk to Georgie—hopefully he’d open his mouth and suddenly know what to say—but not before he made sure his aunt was okay.

  He hurried after her, calling, “Aunt Dottie, wait!” and she turned to face him just as she reached Josie’s boat of a car.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Will you stay in my spare bedroom?”

  “No, dear,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek. “There’s no need for that. Josie is coming to stay with me tonight. I’m a little too shaken to drive, but she’s agreed to chauffeur me as well.”

  “We’re going to meditate about what happened tonight,” Josie said brightly, joining them. She’d been talking to a circle of people by the front yard, and from the looks on their faces, she’d told them enough that he wouldn’t be surprised to see an article about it in the local papers.

  Meditation wasn’t dangerous, was it? Of course, he hadn’t thought a séance was dangerous either.

  “No old extension cords or open fire, okay?” he said to his aunt. “And absolutely no mind-altering substances.” This time he leveled a look at Josie. She had an edibles habit, and on one memorable occasion, she’d sat cross-legged on the bar at Buchanan Brewery and declared herself a fortune-teller—only she’d cursed the love lives of anyone adventurous enough to ask for a reading.

  “If you’re attuned enough to the world around you, anything can be a mind-altering substance,” Josie said airily.

  “Oh, you know what I mean.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but Aunt Dottie cut her off. “Josie, go ahead and get in the car,” she said. “I want a word with my nephew.”

  Surprisingly enough, Josie complied.

  “I’m sorry things went down like that,” he said, “but Aunt Dottie, you really freaked me out in there.” He toed the grass a little with his shoe, and flinched when he saw an incredibly sexy green lace thong that had blended in with the grass. Stooping a little, he grabbed it and pocketed it. “I need to know you’re going to be okay,” he continued. He had to grit the words out past his vulnerability, but he forced himself to say it. Because he loved her. Because he couldn’t lose her too. Because she wouldn’t turn that vulnerability back on him like his mother might have. “Even though Beau’s not here anymore, there are people who need you. I need you. And everyone who came here tonight did it as much for you as for Beau.”

  A smile spread across her face, sweet and real, and he felt reassured. Whatever Georgie had said to her had helped turn things around. He’d have to thank her for that. After he apologized at least a dozen times. “I know, dear boy, and you won’t be rid of me yet. I have plenty of work left to do. Speaking of which, did you notice the crystal Georgie picked tonight?”

  “Don’t even get me started on the crystals,” he said, shaking his head. Still, he couldn’t help but smile back. “But yes. Of course I noticed.”

  “You might want to offer her your spare bedroom.” She glanced up at the smoking house, and at Georgie on the sidewalk, bent over her phone with a grim look on her face. “She won’t be able to stay here, and she might have a tough time checking into a hotel this late.”

  If he hadn’t known better, he might have wondered if she’d planned the whole thing, down to the faulty cord.

  “I will,” he affirmed.

  A sad look crossed her face again. “And find Jezebel, if you would. Beau loved that cat.”

  River repressed the urge to say, He’s the only one who did. Even if it was true, it wouldn’t make her feel better, and he still wanted that.

  “I’ll do my best. But even if we don’t find her tonight, I’m sure she’ll come back. She haunts that house like a poltergeist, and the people in the neighborhood know better than to mess with her.”

  Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and for a moment he thought it might be Georgie, but when he turned around he saw a slightly familiar-looking woman with wavy brown hair and glasses. A small group of people stood behind her, a few of them known to him, the others vaguely familiar in that same way as the woman in front. The neighbors.

  “Did you say Jezebel is on the loose?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah,” he said.

  She flinched as if he’d physically struck her. “What are you going to do?” she asked. “Is someone from the fire department going to apprehend her?”

  “Apprehend her?” he asked in disbelief. “She’s not a criminal.”

  She just gave him a flat look, which was when he remembered where he’d seen her before. A couple of years ago, he’d been hanging out at Beau’s place with his aunt when this woman had come by, fundraising for her kid’s school softball trip to Henryetta, Arkansas. Jezebel had leapt on the box of cookies in her arms. The woman had thought it was cute—until she’d attempted to remove her. Needless to say, they’d bought the whole case.

  The others started murmuring their assent, and he figured he’d better say something to pacify them. The last thing he wanted was for Georgie to be chased out of the neighborhood with pitchforks because of him.

  “Look, I’ll give you guys my number, and you can text if you see her, okay?”

  “Day or night?” someone asked.

  “Sure,” he said, “day or night. And I’ll canvass the neighborhood looking for her.”

  Not that he thought it would do any good. Their best bet was to put out cans of sardines, or whatever brown and black food she’d been scarfing down with such relish tonight.

  They all whipped out their cell phones to take down his information. Then they started to disperse. Aunt Dottie gave him a hug, murmuring something along the lines of, “Oh, all this fuss over a harmless little cat,” and got into the car.

  River glanced back at the sidewalk leading up to the house and caught Georgie staring at him. Although her shirt had patches of soot on it, and there was a smudge of it on her chin, she looked beautiful. She immediately glanced away, as if embarrassed, and her cheeks flushed a little. God, she’d be terrible at poker, but he loved her openness. He liked knowing he could trust her.

  The fireman he’d spoken with earlier stood beside her, and he felt a little stab of something when he noticed the way the man was looking at her.

  “Thanks again,” Georgie told the guy.

  “I’m Jake,” he said, handing her a card with a handwritten number on the back. “Please give me a call if we can do anything to help. Like I said, the house should be safe once it’s clean and aerated, although you’ll still need to replace the plaster on the interior walls and repaint.”

  “Will do,” she said, but her eyes were on River again. She didn’t look judgmental or pissed. If anything, she looked worried about him.

  “My personal number’s on there too,” Jake said. Persistent, wasn’t he? But River found he didn’t care anymore. Georgie wasn’t interested in this guy—he knew it like he knew beer. Somehow he’d gotten lucky—big-time, he-should-play-the-lotto kind of lucky—and she was interested in him. Even now, with Lurch’s
Pee Brew crusted in his hair and on part of his jeans, and with every bit of him smelling of smoke. The only question was whether she’d give him a chance.

  “Thanks, Jake,” she said with a smile. “I love that everyone’s so friendly here.” River noticed she hadn’t promised to contact Jake, but judging by the triumphant grin on the guy’s face as he headed down to the truck, it didn’t appear he’d caught on.

  Everyone else started to leave too, and River took Georgie’s hand and led her around to the backyard. There was a bench there, nestled in the bushes, and it would be private enough for them to talk.

  She didn’t object or try to pull away, and he took that as a good sign.

  He gestured for her to sit down first, which she did, and he sat beside her, not as close as he wanted but a good deal closer than he would have sat if it had been Lurch next to him.

  “So,” he said, feeling awkward suddenly, “I was hoping to talk to you alone tonight, but this wasn’t how I saw it going down.”

  She laughed at that, longer and louder than it warranted, and he found himself laughing too. When their laughter started to wind down, he said, “Georgie, I’m so, so sorry for this. For everything. My aunt’s usually harmless, and I figured…”

  He stalled out, but she gave him a bright smile. “You wanted to help her. That’s honorable, River. You don’t need to apologize for that. Dottie’s lucky to have you, and you her. It’s rare to find a connection like that, even with family.”

  “Well, needless to say, I’ll pay for all of the damages. It doesn’t make up for”—he waved a hand at the house, temporarily at a loss for words—“but at least it’s something.”

  “That’s not necessary,” she said. “I’m sure I can work things out with the insurance company.”

  God, he hoped so. The damage was fairly extensive.

  “Well, then I’ll cover the deductible or whatever.” She looked like she might object, so he shook his head. “Look, it’ll make me feel like slightly less of a failure. How about that?”

  “We’ll see,” she said. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and he remembered the way she’d been looking at it earlier, on the sidewalk.